Simultaneously traversing: the pinnacle of all realms

He kept his expression as natural as possible, his tone carrying just the right amount of curiosity: "Professor, I wanted to ask you a question—why would a diary contain a response? Does it contain a memory of its original owner?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment.

"No," he said. "A single memory isn't enough. Or rather, this deliberately preserved memory—is something far more dangerous."

He glanced down at the diary again: "Its owner—Tom Riddle, a name that belonged to a Hogwarts student fifty years ago. A very bright, very outstanding student."

He paused.

"Later, he had another name."

Xavier felt the air suddenly become heavier. The candlelight in the office stopped flickering, the portraits of past principals fell silent, and even Fox didn't move.

"Voldemort," Dumbledore said, "or, as others might call him—the Mysterious One."

In the wizarding world today, only a few people call Voldemort by his name; on the surface, almost everyone refers to him as the Mysterious Man.

Even more than a decade after he was declared dead, this remained true, as if even his name carried a magic that inspired resistance and fear.

When Dumbledore said the word Voldemort, his tone didn't change at all; it was as if he were saying an ordinary name.

After saying this, he remained silent for a moment, seemingly waiting for Xavier's reaction—the reaction a twelve-year-old should have upon hearing the Dark Lord's name: trembling, fear, or at least tension.

Xavier reacted appropriately, widening his eyes slightly, leaning back, and tightening his fingers on his knees.

These reactions were just right—neither overly exaggerated nor overly calm. The kind of reaction a naive Muggle wizard should have upon hearing the name of a dangerous person.

Of course, Xavier never thought his "performance" could actually fool Dumbledore; one should never underestimate the life experience of a centenarian.

He just hoped that Dumbledore could let down his guard and suspicion.

Dumbledore looked at him, and something seemed to be churning behind his deep blue eyes.

But in the end, he just nodded.

"Yes, Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "He is one of the most dangerous dark wizards in the history of Hogwarts—perhaps the least."

Given Dumbledore's habits, he might explain the issue of titles after talking about Voldemort—why some people dare not call him by his name, and why the title "Mysterious Man" itself gives him power.

But he just looked down at his diary, his expression calm.

Dumbledore does indeed have a hard time trusting others.

It's not that he doesn't want to trust, it's that he can't. As the most powerful white wizard in over a century, he carries too many secrets and has too few people to share them with.

He didn't believe he could be controlled by an old diary, nor did he believe a second-year student could lie to him—but all of this was based on the premise that everything was under his control.

Trust has never been a simple issue for him.

"Thank you, Ethan. I should thank you first—you brought me this instead of keeping it to yourself." He spoke slowly, as if he were thinking as he spoke.

When he looked at Xavier, the layers of complex emotions in his eyes were well concealed, leaving only gentleness.

"Your bloodline ability allows you to sense dangerous and evil forces—I hope you will make good use of this ability."

Xavier knew it was time for him to leave. He stood up and gave Dumbledore a slight bow.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'll head back now."

Good night, Mr. Xavier.

As Xavier reached the door, Dumbledore's voice came from behind him.

"Your letter says that this item was placed in Ginny Weasley's pile of books by Mr. Lucius Malfoy." His tone was casual, as if he were talking about the weather.

"Yes, Professor."

"I understand," Dumbledore said. "I hope you won't tell anyone else about this for the time being."

"I see."

Xavier walked out of the office, the oak door closing softly behind him. He stood on the spiral staircase, letting the stone steps slowly descend, and exhaled.

Dumbledore did not conduct any further tests in his presence.

But Xavier knew that after he left, the diary would be thoroughly examined—from the cover to every page, from the chemical composition of the ink to the residual magical fluctuations.

The most powerful white wizard in over a century has ways to get a fragment of a soul to tell the truth.

Dumbledore is very strong.

Dumbledore's power is not only reflected in his numerous contributions, achievements, defeating Grindelwald, and perfectly suppressing Voldemort. It is also reflected in his ability to suppress and imprison a third, far more powerful and terrifying figure than those two—the Dark Lord Dumbledore—while simultaneously achieving all these accomplishments and confronting those two villains.

Yes, given the circumstances, under certain circumstances, Dumbledore could become an even more terrifying Dark Lord—if he so desired.

Therefore, some high-ranking officials in the Ministry of Magic, even if they are very unwilling, will still "obey" Dumbledore in many ways, and will only cause trouble in other places to satisfy their desire for control or to test Dumbledore's bottom line.

Therefore, some people should be thankful that Dumbledore was a truly good person—a good person who, despite possessing great power, did not become obsessed with power itself, but instead imposed many limitations and constraints on himself.

That's why Xavier chose to hand the notebook over to Dumbledore; if the headmaster were someone else—like Snape—he might not have dared to do it.

Now, more importantly, Dumbledore knows.

The Horcrux Tom Riddle made when he was sixteen has now fallen into the hands of the only person capable of investigating it.

With this breakthrough, Dumbledore would begin searching for other Horcruxes several years earlier.

At this moment, the Gauntlet ring, damaged by the curse, should still be buried in the ruins of Gauntlet's old house; the Hufflepuff Cup, hidden in Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts, should still be lying safely under the protection of the Copying Charm and the Fire Charm; and the seaside cave where the Slytherin locket is hidden is probably still just a dark, forgotten hole.

As for the ending of that diary—there was no compound potion, no basilisk, and no little girl being manipulated.

It will only be thoroughly studied, and then cleaved in two by the Gryffindor sword or something else, quietly ending its life as a Horcrux.

Xavier walked into the third-floor corridor. The night breeze, carrying the chill of early September, slipped in through the cracks in the windows. He glanced up at the direction of the stairs—the corridor was only illuminated by moonlight and the shimmering light of the Black Lake outside the window.

On the first night of school, a unique quiet permeated the castle: not deathly still, but a quiet where hundreds of students were in their respective common rooms, portraits were chatting quietly in their frames, and Pippi was plotting tomorrow's pranks in some corner.

He turned and headed towards the basement. The door to the Hufflepuff common room awaited him, the stack of large wooden barrels gleaming softly at the end of the corridor. As for what would happen after tonight, that was none of his concern.

The diary is no longer in Ginny's possession. It's now in the safest place at Hogwarts.

The second year at Hogwarts should be a peaceful one, barring any unforeseen circumstances.